The Viking's Consort

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The Viking's Consort Page 19

by Quinn Loftis


  I gasped. “What?”

  “He and Captain Clay left a note with Thomas they had to take care of something important and they would explain when they saw me next. They pleaded with me not to wait for them, but to come straight on to Torben’s clan. Clay isn’t one who would do something hastily, so I figured whatever it was must have been important. And Thomas assured me that we needed to go ahead and come to Ravenscar.”

  Bless Clay. Brant must have confided in him about Dayna. And knowing what I did of Brant, he couldn’t waste an opportunity to go after the woman he was in love with while his jarl couldn’t stop him. Clay wouldn’t have let Brant go alone. He’d have demanded to accompany Brant to rescue my sister.

  “Allete, where is Dayna?” my fathered asked again.

  “Perhaps we should go up to my hut and have a seat,” I suggested. I noticed my cousin was conveniently absent. He probably scurried off as soon as they hit land, not wanting to have to admit to his uncle he’d kept such serious news from him.

  The king of England narrowed his eyes, his lips drawing into a straight line across his face. His skin was ashen, making him seem stark and unapproachable. It was an expression he’d perfected over the years to hide his emotions from his enemies. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere until I told him the whereabouts of his youngest daughter.

  After I took a deep breath, I began to explain everything that had happened to us. How Magnus took us to Clan Thornag, though only briefly mentioning he held us captive there. I did not go into detail about what Dayna and I had endured, nor that she’d cut off a man’s hands. I told him about our escape and Hilda’s death, then how Magnus captured me again and Gisele’s attack on Dayna.

  “A witch?” my father said. “My daughter is being held captive by a witch? I’m going to flog Thomas for keeping this from me.”

  “Thomas was only doing what he felt was best, as are Clay and Brant. They’re no doubt on their way to rescue her. Which Torben and I had also planned to do, but we are currently waiting on more allies.”

  “Then you believe your sister is alive?” he asked, obviously dreading a negative answer.

  “I do. I feel like I would know if she were gone.”

  His shoulders slumped as if I’d just settled the weight of the world on them. I hated to see him so worn and tired.

  “Dayna is tough,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I imagine the witch is probably wishing she’d not kept her.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure Dayna is keeping the woman on her toes.”

  “Where is Torben?”

  “He is visiting other clans, seeking allies for our assault on Cathal. They, too, have been attacked by the bastard and will likely come to our aid. They want restitution, and they should be willing to join in the fight with us,” I answered. “I expect Torben back tonight.”

  “And Myra, is she still here?”

  “Yes. She’s been much help, but she’s also a pain in my arse.”

  My father chuckled. “Most witches are.”

  “Come join me, Father. I’ve some new information I need to speak with Myra about.” I glanced over his shoulder toward the boats. Freya gave orders to the other shieldmaidens who were helping my father’s men set up tents. “Freya,” I yelled. She turned, and I motioned for her to follow us. Freya gave me a thumbs-up, then said something to Babs before jogging toward us.

  When she reached us, she wore her stern warrior face. “My Queen?” she said. The words caught me off guard. Freya wasn’t teasing this time. She was actually addressing me respectfully. I wasn’t sure it suited her.

  “Freya, this is my father, King Albric.” I motioned to him. “Father, this is Freya, General of the Shieldmaidens.”

  Freya pressed her arm across her chest, her fist over her heart, and bowed at the waist. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. You have raised a tough woman.”

  Smiling, my father inclined his head slightly. “It is an honor to meet you as well, Freya of the Shieldmaidens. And thank you for helping my men with the camp setup,” he said.

  “Happy to do it.”

  “All right, introductions made,” I said. I rubbed my hands together. “Now, we need to go speak to Myra about the headless man and this Evelyn character.” The woman’s name came out very softly. After learning about elemental magic, I did not want to send anything nefarious off into the wind where it might find a place to land, grow, and later be reaped to our detriment.

  By the time I opened the door to our hut, I was in desperate need of a drink and something to eat. My father and Freya followed me inside.

  “Leave the door open, Father,” I said when he went to close it. Myra stood from her seat at the table, moving slowly as though she were in pain.

  “King Albric,” the witch said. “It is good to see you have arrived safe and sound.”

  “Thank you, Myra,” he said, then pointed at the chair she’d been sitting in. “Do not stand on my account. Please.”

  I ladled water out of our drinking cistern into cups before handing them out to everyone. Then I unwrapped a loaf of bread and cut off slices, setting them on plates and passing them out. I didn’t ask if they wanted the meal because I figured if they didn’t eat it, I’d happily scarf it down like the lady I was.

  Freya and my father each took a seat, as did I. I picked up the bread, then raised it to my mouth. My portion was gone in the blink of an eye. I wasn’t even sure if I tasted it. Then I drank all the water in the cup in one long draught. As I set my cup on the table, I noticed three sets of eyes staring at me.

  “What?” I asked, then belched.

  “I’m sure Torben must think they broke the mold when you came into this world,” my father said, shaking his head as he picked up his own slice of bread.

  “Al, we’ve had this discussion before,” Freya said. “If you’re going to do it, then go all the way. None of this girly belching.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, oh wise one. I will try harder to be a Neanderthal.”

  “Excellent,” Freya said with a smile. “Now, let’s tell witchy about our now headless man and his Evelyn.”

  Myra choked on the water she was sipping, then quickly set the cup down. I patted her back until she got herself under control.

  “What name did you just say?” Myra asked when her coughing fit had passed.

  “Evelyn,” Freya repeated.

  Myra’s eyes took on a haunted look as they seemed to lose focus.

  “Myra?” I said gently.

  “You’re sure it was Evelyn?” she asked. “Absolutely positive?”

  Freya and I both nodded. “Completely,” I said. “The man was fanatical. There were no mistaking his words.”

  ‘It can’t be,” Myra whispered, her lips trembling slightly. “It simply cannot be.”

  “What can’t be?” Freya asked.

  “Maybe we should just start at the beginning,” I suggested.

  Myra shook her said, but then nodded. “Yes, of course, child. But first, please tell me exactly what happened.”

  I let Freya relay the events of our day. Before she got to the part about questioning the man, I quickly went and shut the door. Then I put my hand on Freya’s shoulder to stop her.

  I studied Myra. “I have a bad feeling about saying her name out loud. Is there something you can do, a protection or cloaking spell of some sort?”

  Myra’s eyes widened when she realized what I was getting at. “You think she’s using the air, the wind, to listen in?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. But when he said her name, it was as if he summoned her or alerted her somehow,” I explained.

  Myra nodded. “Very prudent, Oracle,” she said. “Do you have any salt?”

  I pursed my lips. “Salt really is a witch thing?” I went to the cupboard, then started rifling through it until I found some. I handed the bag to Myra, who had stood from her seat.

  “Yes, it is in some spells,” she admitted. “Have a seat,” she instructed, t
hen began pouring the salt around the table and chairs. She stepped inside the circle before completing and closing it.

  Myra retook her seat, then set the salt down on the table. After pulling out a crystal from her cloak, she cupped it in her hands. Holding it near her mouth, she began to talk softly, as though she were whispering a secret to the crystal.

  “Silent circle, still the wind,

  Keep the words locked inside.

  Separate foe from friend,

  Let these truths in here hide.”

  Myra returned the crystal to her cloak, then placed her hands in her lap. ”All right, continue,” she said nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just performed a spell to prevent anyone from hearing us. I felt as though there should be a visible shield surrounding us. But, of course, there was nothing of the sort.

  “No one will be able to hear us outside of the salt circle?” Freya asked.

  “That is correct,” Myra said. “If one of us steps out of the circle, the spell is broken.”

  I glanced at my father to see how he was handling the open talk about magic. He didn’t appear to be upset or scared. He simply watched quietly. “How are you doing, Father?”

  He must have seen my worry. Reaching over, he patted my hand. “We never made you hide your magic because we feared it, Allete. Quite the opposite. Your mother and I have always known what a special gift you had. We forced you to hide it because there were people who would have seen you as an asset, and they would have tried to take you. And there were others who would fear you, and they would have tried to kill you. We did it to protect you. I am sorry if you ever felt like we were uncomfortable around you. That was never the case.”

  I patted his hand. “I was young, and I didn’t understand. I know you and Mother love me just as I am.”

  He nodded.

  Freya picked up the story—starting from where the man knelt and yelled about someone finding me. “We asked who he was talking about…” Freya trailed off.

  “He said the name Evelyn,” I finished. “Myra, who is Evelyn? You obviously know who she is.”

  “I knew a woman named Evelyn when I was a girl. She was a terrible witch. It could, of course, be a coincidence this man showed up chanting the name. Those men on the beach could be completely unrelated to the Evelyn I knew. But I don’t believe in coincidences, especially not when there is an oracle involved.” She narrowed her eyes.

  “I’ve clearly missed something,” my father said.

  “I’ll explain everything in due time, Father,” I said. “Myra, please continue.”

  “Evelyn sought me out when I was seventeen. She said she’d felt my power—that she knew another witch had been born into her territory.”

  “Witches have territories?” Freya asked.

  Myra shook her head. “No, not usually. But dark witches are territorial because they need blood to fuel their magic, which means they need people. Naturally, they draw these people from close by their home. Too many dark witches in the same place mean too many people go missing. Eventually, someone takes notice. So, most evil witches steer clear of one another to avoid this problem.”

  “You mean they basically see us as cattle?” I asked.

  “Essentially, I guess that’s a good comparison,” Myra said.

  “That’s sick,” I whispered.

  “This Evelyn was a dark witch then?” Father asked.

  “As dark as they come,” Myra confirmed. “She wanted to take me under her wing and tutor me. The first and only time I was in her home, I knew I wanted nothing to do with the kind of magic she practiced.”

  “Could she really still be around?” Freya asked. “No offense, little witch, but you’re no spring chicken. If she was an adult back then, she must be ancient now.”

  Myra chuckled. “She was probably ten years my senior, maybe a little older. At least that’s how she appeared. But blood magic can allow a witch to preserve her life and keep her young. My twin sister stopped aging a long time ago. I haven’t seen her in many years, but I don’t believe she appears older than a person whose reached twenty-five summers.”

  “You have a twin? And she’s evil?” Freya asked.

  “She was Evelyn’s apprentice,” Myra said.

  I suddenly felt as if I’d swallowed a handful of rocks. My stomach dropped, and bile rose in my throat. Gisele had been trained by this horrible dark witch, Evelyn, who was apparently still alive and somehow figured out who and what I was. Just when I was beginning to hope this was all going to work out for the best.

  Freya ran a hand across her face. She released a sigh, sounding exhausted. “Why do I feel like things just got a whole lot more complicated?”

  Myra just tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. “Maybe not. Maybe we just found a way to get all the players in the same location.”

  I pinned her with my eyes where she sat. “What are you talking about?”

  “If she were using some sort of magic to keep tabs on her interests, such as you…” She pointed at me. “Then maybe we can feed her information that will draw her out.”

  “Are you suggesting we use Allete as bait to ambush a dark witch?” my father asked.

  “Not exactly,” Myra said. “But if Evelyn wants to find us, she will. And I can’t imagine it’ll be to throw Allete a coronation party. We’d be much better off if the confrontation happened on our terms.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Freya asked.

  “We let it slip that Allete is traveling to the kingdom of Tara. And if Evelyn is alive, she might still be in contact with Gisele. We might be able to get her to brag to her old apprentice about finding an oracle. Gisele won’t be able to stand Evelyn outdoing her. My twin will want her nose right in the middle of it, I’m sure. And if she shows up, she’ll likely bring Dayna along as well.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know about that. We’re fairly sure Brant and my father’s captain went after Dayna.”

  “Then they’ve already been captured,” Myra said, tone matter of fact.

  “I don’t know, Myra,” my father said. “Captain Clay is more than capable. From what I know of Brant, he doesn’t seem a man to be trifled with.

  Myra shook her head. “It matters not, Your Highness. You have no idea what Gisele is capable of. As deeply as she has sunk into the dark arts, she may be the most powerful witch on earth. Two men, armed only with martial weapons, wouldn’t stand a chance against her, no matter how capable or dedicated they might be.”

  I had no doubt Myra was correct. I’d seen Gisele drop Hilda and Dayna with merely a wave of her hand. “Do you think she’s killed them?” I asked.

  “Not without an audience,” Myra answered. “My sister is nothing if not dramatic, and she craves attention. She’ll either use their deaths as a spectacle or in some sinister dark ritual. Probably both.”

  There was a collective shudder around the table.

  “We have to rescue them,” my father said.

  “Maybe we can,” Myra said. “We need Gisele to ‘discover’ that we will be in Tara. If she figures that out, then she will show up, I promise you. And she will bring her prisoners because she will have an audience to witness her display of power.”

  “I think I would like your sister,” Freya said. “You know, if she wasn’t a diabolical, evil bitch.”

  Myra appeared pensive. “We were close once,” the witch said. “I did everything I could to keep her from becoming what she is, but…” Shrugging, Myra swallowed thickly. “Anyway, I need time to think. Allete, you need to be working on oracle stuff. You two do whatever it is you do,” she said, motioning to Freya and my father.

  “Can I break the circle?” Freya asked.

  Myra nodded.

  I hugged my father. “I’ll be down later. Are you staying on the beach in your tent or would you like us to make you a place up here?”

  “I will stay with my men,” he answered. I’d figured he would, but I wanted him to know he was welcome.

  “All
right.”

  “I will make sure they are all taken care of, My Queen,” Freya said, bowing to me.

  “Thank you, Freya. You have my gratitude.” Her eyes widened as I hugged her. She gave me an awkward pat on the back that made me smile.

  When they’d gone, Myra motioned for me to sit and then poured salt back around the circle, closing it once again. She repeated her earlier incantation, then pulled Hilda’s book out of her cloak.

  “How in the world did you hide that in your cloak?” I asked as she set it on the table in front of me.

  “One day, I will give you all my secrets,” she said.

  “That’s what Hilda said, then I found myself spitting on a book and holding it in a burning fire with my bare hands. You can keep your secrets, thank you very much.”

  Myra cackled as if I’d just said the funniest thing ever.

  “It wasn’t that funny, considering it was true,” I grumbled. I flipped the book open to the last page I’d read. “Do you think, at any point, we will actually learn something that will help us?”

  “Just keep reading,” Myra said. It was the same thing she said every time I got tired of staring at that stupid book.

  Page after page, I continued to read. I figured out quickly I had to run my finger over every word so the next page of text would show up. I wasn’t sure how many hours had passed by the time I reached the page where Myra’s name appeared, but I must have been getting sleepy because as soon as I saw it, I sat up straight and felt my eyes widen.

  “You’re in here,” I said.

  Myra had been writing on a small piece of parchment with a quill and ink, all of which had also been housed in her cloak. I decided I needed to ask after her tailor.

  “What does it say?” she asked. It was as if she’d expected me to come across her name eventually.

  “Why aren’t you surprised you’re in Hilda’s book?”

  She shrugged. “Because I’m not.”

  “You knew you were in here?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “It was something I saw long ago and something Hilda confirmed. The problem is my sister is aware of the entry as well.”

 

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